


Something to Talk About

by CJ_fics



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Fluff so much fluff, Mentions of Sex, Sequel, gift-fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 05:24:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6552772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CJ_fics/pseuds/CJ_fics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to At Last. </p>
<p>In the aftermath of Oliver and Felicity’s private wedding, the Star City media goes bonkers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something to Talk About

**Author's Note:**

  * For [missmeagan666](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmeagan666/gifts).



_“… And there you have it, my Star city stars,” Lola Lane announces dramatically. dabbing her heavily-made up eyes with a black lace handkerchief, “Proof undeniable that the Mayor and the CEO have tied the knot. Legally. Secretly.”_

_The screen shows a shot of the marriage certificate with Oliver and Felicity’s names._

_“But so many details to go over!” Lola’s voice announces, “Here we have Star City’s top wedding officiant, Marshal Maddox, to explain to us what this is all about.”_

_The screen shows a short man with a white pompadour that contrasted dramatically with his ebony skin. He’s dressed in a silver suit and white button-down shirt, and a red bolo tie. Marshall Maddox is one of the top family lawyers in Star City, and as Lola had said, the wedding officiant slash divorce lawyers to celebrity couples._

_“Are you just not so gutted that you were not asked to officiate this wedding?” Lola begins, “That is such a travesty!”_

_“It’s all right, Lola honey,” Marshal responds with a coy smile, “Perhaps I’ll be part of their divorce proceedings instead …”_

_“So cheeky! Loving it!” Lola guffaws, slapping Marshal’s shoulder in glee._

_“I’m kidding! I’m kidding, of course. It’s too soon to start speculating about that,” Marshal smirks, “Especially when we have so many things to talk about with this secret wedding!”_

_“Of course,” Lola responds, “There are juicy details to be had. Start us off, Marshall!”_

_“Well, let’s have a look at that certificate again, shall we?” Marshal says as the screen changes to show the marriage certificate again. “You see here,” Marshal starts as the camera pans to the section that he is referring to, “The wedding happened a week ago. It was officiated by a Judge Harriet Matsuda – you might want to get an interview with her to get more deets, Lola.”_

_“We’re on it,” Lola answers, “But the good judge is keeping mum about it.”_

_“Well, she also filed it the marriage license, by the way,” Marshal adds, “Perhaps have a talk with the county clerk who processed this – a Denise Jackson.”_

_“Good lead, Marshal,” Lola says, “Any more details?”_

_“Well, the witnesses for the wedding are a Mr. John Stewart Diggle, and Thea Queen,” Marshal says, “If I remember correctly, Mr. Diggle used to be the Mayor’s personal bodyguard, turned Head of Security for Palmer Tech.”_

_“So, the Mayor and the CEO have kept the wedding to their nearest and dearest,” Lola concludes, “I wonder why…”_

Thea turns off the television, rolling her eyes towards John as she steps into the training mat,  "So it begins.“

"At least the news got out after those two had left for Bali,” John shrugs before flinging a bo staff towards Thea, “Talk later, spar now.”

Thea smiles as she catches the staff deftly, “Hell, yeah.”

———-

“These people are vile,” Nyssa comments with a frown, nodding her head towards the muted television.

Sara looks at the screen from her place by the kitchen counter, “They look weird, yes. No need to judge them for that.”

“I have seen more uniquely-attired individuals, my love,” Nyssa answers, “I am not referring to their garish fashion choices.”

“So what then?” Sara asks absent-mindedly, refocusing on the trimming the steak for their dinner.

She had decided to stay in Star City for a bit after Oliver and Felicity’s surprise wedding, to offer her time and skills to the team to replace Oliver temporarily, and to spend some time with her dad. Nyssa had shown up the day after the wedding, bearing gifts and well-wishes for the couple. She had also volunteered her time to the team as part of her wedding gift. After Oliver and Felicity return from Bali, then she and Nyssa would decide where to head next. Perhaps spend time at the Temple of the Blue Lotus. Or to round up some League stragglers.

_The future is theirs to make the most of_ , Sara smiles to herself. _Finally._

“They’re bitter about Oliver and Felicity keeping their wedding a secret from the media,” Nyssa answers.

“The TV is on mute …” Sara comments, bemused.

“Lip-reading,” Nyssa shrugs, “This show is particularly challenging because of their shiny lips, and the fast and exaggerated manner of speaking.”

“Of course,” Sara rolls her eyes lovingly at her partner, shaking her head.

“This small man is contemplating the reasons for the secrecy,” Nyssa continues with a scowl, “And this garishly-painted woman is encouraging his vileness.”

“And what’s the conclusion?” Sara prods, grabbing the salt and pepper to season the steaks.

She knows how these tabloid TV shows work. She remembered how similar TV shows had criticised Laurel for her every move once it got out that she was dating Ollie Queen. Back then, Sara had been too young, immature, and envious of Laurel getting Ollie to fully realise just how vile these shows were.

“She must have a ‘bun in the oven’,” Nyssa says with a straight face, “That’s an idiomatic expression for Felicity being pregnant, yes?”

Sara nods.

“Is there truth to this speculation?” Nyssa asks as she gets up from the couch to walk towards the kitchen area.

“If Felicity is pregnant, then that’s not the reason for them getting married. Or the secrecy of it,” Sara answers, “I honestly think they just couldn’t wait. And they just wanted to keep it private.”

“I agree,” Nyssa nods as she fishes the pan from underneath the kitchen island, “I received an invitation to their wedding.”

“You did?” Sara fires up the stove stop as Nyssa places the pan on it, “Why did you opt to not attend?”

“It was not a matter of choice,” Nyssa responds, “There was left over League matters that required my attention.”

“And it wasn’t because you would have felt awkward about being Al Sah-him’s wife?” Sara confirms.

This was a matter that she knew was touchy to Nyssa. She had been forced to marry Al Sah-him under League Law, one of the most evil things Ra’s Al Ghul had ever done to his own daughter. And while the marriage was never consummated, it was recognised within the confines of the League of Assassins, and for Nyssa, who grew up under League Law and its culture, the marriage – no matter how unwanted on both parties – was valid enough for her.

Disbanding the League was the first step in Nyssa letting go of her strict laws and culture that she had grown up in and with, Sara knew.

“I had released him from that title the moment I disbanded the League,” Nyssa says.

“Did you tell him that?” Sara prods.

“I told him so after Merlyn, Darhk and HIVE were dealt with,” Nyssa answers, “And I wouldn’t have given them my blessings and my gifts, if it were against my will and beliefs.”

“Good,” Sara nods, putting the steaks in the pan.

“And I wouldn’t be here with you, if I still considered myself the Bride of the Demon,” Nyssa says softly, wrapping an arm around Sara’s waist and nuzzling her temple.

Sara smiles, burying her face in the Nyssa’s neck, “Good.”

After a few minutes of companionable silence, listening to the sizzling sounds and smells of the grilling meat, Nyssa pulls away, “Is there nothing we can do about those vile people and their speculations?”

Sara laughs.

———–

_“Donna! Donna! Donna! Over here, Donna!”_ multiple  voices call out accompanied by the flashes of light bulbs as she steps outside The Atelier.

_“Donna, is it true that your daughter is pregnant?”_

_“… Is she getting an abortion right now…?”_

_“What does that mean for her marriage to Mayor Queen?”_

_“… Will she go back to Vegas after all of this is done? Will you go back with her?”_

_“Did she trick the mayor into marrying her so quickly with a fake pregnancy?”_

_“What’s with the secrecy?”_

_“Are you ready to be a grandma? You don’t look like anyone’s grandma. Hubba hubba.”_

“What the …” Donna stares in shock at the commotion outside the clothing shop.

“Perhaps, you should step back inside, Ms. Smoak,” Sasha Reynolds, the tall, well-dressed, caramel-skinned, The Atelier manager calls quietly from the re-opened door, motioning Donna back in.

“Yes, thank you,” Donna says distractedly as she hurries back into the shop.

“Perhaps I can call the SCPD…?” Sasha thinks aloud as she quickly locks the door to the shop, “I apologise, Ms. Smoak, I wasn’t aware of their presence.”

“It’s not your fault, Sasha,” Donna smiles kindly at the beautiful, younger woman, “I didn’t even realise that they were following me.”

“It’s too late to go out by the back exit now,” Sasha says with a frown, tapping her pointer finger on her painted lips, “I’m sure some of them would be stationed there by now.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Donna says, lifting her phone to her ear, “Hi, Pooh Bear? There’s paparazzi outside of the shop – Yes, you know that shop. The one that I like. Where Felicity got that lovely yellow dress for my birthday. Yes. That one. The Atelier. We’re kind of trapped inside because there’s a swarm of reporters outside asking the most horrible questions! You can do that? OK good. Thank you, Pooh Bear!”

After she hangs up the call, Donna tells Sasha, “SCPD will be here shortly.”

“That’s a relief,” Sasha nods.

“I’m really sorry about this,” Donna sighs, “I’m sure those assholes out there would be bad for business.”

“On the contrary,’ Sasha says good-naturedly, waving Donna’s apologies with her long-fingered, manicured hand, "We’re getting free publicity with the paparazzi knowing that the mother of the – what does the media love to call your daughter? Oh, right, 'The Newly Crowned Queen’ – shopping here.”

“They’re all assholes,” Donna says sullenly, “Can’t they just accept that my daughter and my son-in-law don’t owe them anything? That their wedding belonged to the two of them, and just to two of them.”

“Yes, the sense of entitlement is so obvious,” Sasha replies in understanding.

Donna exhales as she calms herself down, “I guess, it can’t be helped. The city needs something positive to obsess about. I mean, after everything that has happened here. And there’s nothing more positive than my daughter and my son-in-law and the love they have for each other.”

“They are an inspirational pair,” Sasha says as she prepares to close the shop for the day, “Just what this city needs.”

“You know, the dress Felicity wore for the wedding was from here,” Donna says with a sly smile, “I don’t think she’d mind you knowing that – and letting others know about it.”

“So she wore the layered white-on-white cocktail dress then?” Sasha asks.

“You knew?”

“I had a feeling when she saw the dress,” Sasha shares, “She had a look in her eyes upon seeing it. Like she could see herself in it – and walking towards her Oliver while wearing it.”

“You’re good,” Donna smiles, “Felicity said almost the exact same thing when I asked her why she was wearing such a simple dress for her wedding!”

Sasha smiles confidently in response.

“I like the idea of keeping this detail between us until your daughter is ready to share it with the world,” Sasha says.

“I knew there was a reason I liked this shop,” Donna winks at the younger woman.

———

“I can’t believe you made it,” Oliver whispers in Felicity’s ear as they straighten their seats and fold in their tray tables in preparation for their descent into Star City airport.

“You mean, stay away from the internet for two weeks?” Felicity smiles, nuzzling Oliver’s jawline as she reaches for his hand.

Before they had gone on their honeymoon in Bali, he had questioned her ability to stay off the internet, teasing her about her “addiction”. As predicted, she sought to prove him wrong by vowing to remain offline until they reached their loft after returning from Bali.

She continues stroking his throat with her face, running her fingers along his forearm, as she says throatily, “You helped, you know. A huge help. The biggest. Gargantuan, even.”

“Honey …” he growls, nipping her earlobe, “We’ll be landing soon. Too late to have another go at the Mile High Club.” Then he eyes the closed door of the First Class toilet. “Maybe?”

They had been pretty successful being members of that club, owing to the tonnes of practice they had gotten the first time they left the city as a couple. On this trip, they had gotten pretty good at it – stealthily touching each other under their blankets as they waited for the rest of the First Class passengers to fall asleep before making their way to the toilet to finish what they had started in their seats – that they didn’t even have to deal with the amused and sometimes judge-y looks from the flight crew.

Before they could entertain the idea further, one of the flight attendants interrupts the moment by checking that they had their seat belts fastened properly.

“Not too tight, Mrs. Queen,” Carol, tall brunette flight attendant says, eyeing Felicity’s belly in concern.

“Thanks,” Felicity smiles. She’s not getting over hearing people call her 'Mrs. Queen’ any time soon. She knows she’s being old-fashioned about it but she can’t help herself. She loves being married to Oliver, and having people acknowledge that.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over hearing you being called, 'Mrs. Queen’,” Oliver whispers flirtatiously as soon as Carol leaves their vicinity, “Does that make me a caveman?”

Felicity’s smile grows bigger and giddier as she turns its full wattage on him. “It does,” she reaches to stroke his chest, “In the best possible way.”

Oliver chuckles, resuming the playful nipping of her earlobe and surrounding areas.

“What’s the first thing you’re going to once you get on the internet?” he asks, pecking the back of her ear one more time before pulling away. He needs to cool things down temporarily as deplaning with a boner is huge hassle.

“Checking the bunker systems, for sure,” she says.

“Do you want to make a quick stop there before heading home?” he asks, leaning back in his chair but keeping his hold on her hand.

“I can do that from the loft,” Felicity smiles, “I kind of want to spend our first day back on our own. I’m not quite ready to let go of our time together.”

“Good thing we have the whole day tomorrow to get used to being back in the city before we have to go back to work on Monday,” Oliver nods, feeling exactly the same way.

The two weeks in Bali, spent mostly in their opulent and private cottage, overlooking the rice paddies of Ubud, were the best start to this latest evolution of their relationship.

_Husband and wife. Partners for life._ Oliver smiles at the thought.

“Yes, good planning, hubby,” Felicity smiles at him knowingly as if she knows exactly what’s in his mind at the moment.

“I have my moments,” he murmurs, lifting her hand to drop kisses on her knuckles.

Felicity sighs, “I’m going to miss our cottage.”

“Me, too,” he nods.

“How about we make a deal, Mr. Queen?” she offers.

He nods as if to tell her, “Go on. I’m listening.”

“How about we promise that we won’t let two years pass without going back to Bali?” she smiles, resting her chin on the curve of his shoulder, keeping their eyes connected.

“How about one year?” he counters, leaning over to peck her nose with his.

“You think we can make Bali a yearly thing?” her eyes widen at the thought.

“I think we should make the effort,” he vows.

“Deal,” she smiles before tilting her head to meet his lips for a kiss, sealing the promise.

Their kiss goes on until their plane safely lands, both of them savouring the final moments of their time together.

They had no clue what they were in for.

——–

“And this is why the internet is important!” Felicity exclaims helplessly as she settles into the back of the limousine waiting for them at the airport, pulling out her tablet to connect to her feeds about Oliver.

As soon as the doors were released, John and Parker alighted the aircraft with grim faces, telling them that in their absence, the media had found out about their private wedding and that media clamour for them had grown extreme enough to be a security concern for both the Mayor and the CEO of one of the top companies in the city. They had been escorted out of the airplane, through immigration and customs towards their waiting limousine, with a flank of guards and security. Both from the city government and Palmer Tech’s private security.

That didn’t stop the reporters from hurling questions at them from behind the black-suited guards surrounding them. They weren’t shielded from the comments and the jeers thrown at them for getting married in a private ceremony.

“They city has gone nuts again!” she adds in the same helpless voice as more headlines about their “secret” wedding, speculating about the reasons for the rush and the privacy, bombard her.

She had loved being offline, being able to focus on her husband and on the moments they had shared in Bali, being able to just be “in the now” with the person she had just vowed to spend the rest of her life loving. But apparently, that came with a price, she thinks sullenly.

“Hey,” Oliver murmurs, pushing her hair back behind her ears, “We can handle this.” He leans closer to kiss her jawline.

“Oliver, they think the reason why we got married in secret was because I’m pregnant!” she whines, pushing him away distractedly, refusing to be calmed down as she scrolls through the articles, murmuring her reactions to the headlines.

Oliver growls in frustration, as he pulls away from her, running his hand through his hair. This catches Felicity’s attention. She looks up from her tablet and sighs.

“Sorry,” she murmurs, pushing a button on her tablet so the screen shuts off, and flipping it over so the screen faced her lap.

“It’s not your fault,” Oliver scowls looking at the space in front of him. _What could he do?_

“It’s not yours either,” she says, reaching a hand out towards him, palm up. He takes it, and clasps their hands together.

He turns their joined hands over so he could drop a kiss on the back of her hand. She smiles and kisses the back of his hand. _  
_

_They could handle this together. And they will. Now._

“Take us back to the airport lobby,” she says to  the driver, her gaze never leaving Oliver’s.

John, who was in the seat beside the driver, turns around with a frown,“You sure?”

“Yes,” Oliver answers for the both of them, his gaze never leaving Felicity’s.

John smiles, shaking his head,  "Gotcha.“

He raises the partition pane with a flip of a switch, but not before witnessing the blinding smiles the couple give each other as they lean in for a kiss.

Fifteen minutes later, to the surprise of the gathered reporters, Mayor Queen alights the limousine he and his new wife had been ushered into, reaches his hand out to assist Felicity Queen from the vehicle.

Together, with hands clasped, expressions relaxed, they find a spot a few feet from the car as their security team stand in front of them with the reporters with their microphones and cameras circling them.

Before anyone could speak, Oliver says, "Yes, we’re married.”

“Yes, we just came back from our honeymoon,” Felicity adds, nuzzling her face against Oliver’s shoulder.

“No, Felicity is not pregnant,” Oliver says as he looks lovingly at his wife.

“Although, we wouldn’t be opposed to the idea,” Felicity smiles back at him.

After a few seconds of gazing at each other, Oliver addresses the gathered reporters again, “And, no, we didn’t marry in secret. We married _in private_. There’s a difference.”

“All of our friends and family were in attendance. _Only_ our closest friends and family were invited,” Felicity interjects.

“Because we agreed that a private ceremony was what we both wanted,” Oliver says in a tone that didn’t welcome any argument.

“Questions?” Felicity raises her eyebrow at the stunned reporters.

After a few minutes of the reporters scrambling to think about what to ask, Felicity turns to Oliver, “I guess not.”

“Have a good day, everyone,” Oliver says before turning towards the limousine where John waits by the open door.

“That’ll give them something to talk about,” Felicity whispers to him as they settle back inside the car.

“How about love?” he singsongs as he pulls her unto his lap.

“Such a cornball,” Felicity laughs as she bends down to kiss him.

/end

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted here: https://outoftheclosetshipper.tumblr.com/post/142789914938/something-to-talk-about-summary-sequel-to-at-last


End file.
